


Firsts

by misdemeanour



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Experimental Style, F/F, Just a dash of angst, fluff for ur soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9519071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misdemeanour/pseuds/misdemeanour
Summary: Lena and Sombra have a date. It goes something like this: Lena spends too much time researching flower symbolism and Sombra isn't sure why she said yes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> 'Cos I'm a giant twit, I forgot to make note of this upon original publication date, and for that I'm incredibly sorry. The style of this ficlet is loosely inspired by this [work](http://inkskinned.com/post/156010814309/i-would-you-delete-memories-if-you-could) by [inkskinned.](http://inkskinned.tumblr.com)

i. Lena wears her nicest blazer, and a white button-down top. With shaking fingers, she does the buttons up one-by-one and leaves a couple by her collarbone undone.

ii. Sombra debates on what shade of purple lipstick to wear. Looks at herself in her bathroom mirror and wonders if she's thinking too hard on something so simple. on something that means nothing.

iii. Why did she say yes?

iv. A single daffodil rests between thumb and forefinger. Lena spent a half-hour googling flower symbolism and if it was gauche or not to bring one on a first date. The look on Sombra's face tells her it sort of was.

v. Sombra let's Lena kiss the knuckles of her hand, lips ghosting across the valleys. The smile on her face is just as faint.

vi. (Daffodils are supposed to represent chivalry.)

vii. She's sweet, Sombra thinks, trusting in an open, naive way that'll be the death of her (it's a wonder it hasn't already). What does she have to gain by doing this? By walking straight into the dragon's den?

viii. Mysterious doesn't begin to describe Sombra. Lena knows she's a fool for laying out all her cards, giving herself so completely to someone who could destroy her. But trust, Lena thinks, is a powerful thing. You need to give a little to get a little.

ix. She's a puzzle she can't figure out, a thousand pieces of what-ifs and maybes splintering off into a sprawling maze of dead ends and wrong turns.

x. "Do you dance?" Lena asks, giving Sombra a gap-toothed smile. The splash of freckles dusting the bridge of her nose stand out with the faint blush to her cheeks; hard to tell if alcohol is to blame.

"Do I dance?" Sombra repeats, vaguely offended, vaguely amused. She leans on the table, smirk tugging the corner of her mouth. "The better question is: can you keep up?"

Lena's laugh is loud, infuriatingly endearing. Sombra hates it. Ducks her head so she has an excuse not to keep eye contact, to ignore the way the back of her neck and ears heat up.

xi. It's cute when Sombra grows flustered. She ducks her head and pretends to investigate the remains of her meal in lieu of looking up, even pokes at the plate with her fork for good measure. Lena props her chin in the palm of her hand, sort of smug, sort of wanting to hear her laugh.

xii. (Laughing isn't something Sombra does much of anymore.)

xiii. It'd be so easy to let herself fall, to give into the gravity of the situation. Happiness, though, is a fleeting, fickle monster she's not keen on courting. so easy to lose, so easy to get burned. The moment curdles, and Sombra doesn't bother chasing after it.

xiv. They're standing outside the restaurant, Lena insisting on waiting with Sombra for her cab. conversation has died, and something sits sour in her gut. Lena assumes she did something to warrant the shift in behaviour, but deciphering Sombra is a moot point.

xv. Boldly, Lena reaches up, brushes hair behind Sombra's ear with a trembling hand. she's pretty, radiant even, in the evening glow and moonlight. Sombra's eyes flutter close, and Lena swears she leans into the contact.

"May I kiss you?" she asks. Sombra grows still.

xvi. Sombra hates it. Hates the way Lena is too sweet, too kind and so disgustingly courteous. Sombra hates the way she makes her heart smack against her ribs. Vulnerability isn't something she cares much for, but Lena makes it so easy.

xvii. For a terrible moment, she doesn't say anything. For a terrible moment, she stands stiff and Lena is close to thinking she crossed some invisible boundary. Then Sombra loops her arms around Lena's neck, says nothing but kisses her softly.

xviii. She kisses her, she kisses her, she kisses her. Lena wants to breath her in like oxygen, wants to keep burning.

xix. The dumbstruck look on Lena's face borders on comical. Sombra pats her cheek. "I've had worse dates." she says, corner of her mouth quirking up.


End file.
